LAST OF THE "-INIS"

The Great Saltini, by Silvio Redinger

Right now you're probably asking yourself, "What has The Great Saltini done for us lately?!"

Sure, he patented, trademarked and copyrighted the effect "Sawing A Lady in Half with a Chain Saw" at that memorable full-evening show back in - what was it? 1974? That was probably the last time they packed a thousand people into the Luther Burbank Auditorium.

He really needed the money. His bank account had been seriously depleted by a small fiasco that had taken place in the "House of Magic," the charming little magic shop maintained by the late dean of San Francisco magicians, Marvin Burger. Known to all by his stage name "Buma," he was the one who had encouraged Saltini to go pro, saying, in the understatement of the century, "You got a great line of bullshit!"

Saltini at the time was working as a journalist, so he was no stranger to bullshit.

“Magic and journalism are perfectly compatible, I guess,” he said to Buma, as both leaned over the counter which displayed everything from fake vomit to the most subtle and arcane secrets human ingenuity has yet produced. 

“Sure,” said Buma. “They both try to convince you of something that never happened!”

Buma and son at the House of Magic

Just then, a sharp-faced man with shades walked into the shop.

“Help you with something?” asked Buma.

“I hope so,” the stranger said. "I’d be surprised, though, just like the first time.”

“The first time?” Saltini chimed in.

“Are you a magician?” the sharp-faced man asked.

“The Great Saltini, at your service.”

“Oh. Well, anyway, maybe both of you can help me out,” he went on. “I saw a guy do something the other day that has just got to be real magic! The guy borrows a ten dollar bill from me, OK? He tells me don’t worry, I’ll get it right back. I was watching him like a hawk!”

“What happened?” Saltini prompted.

“I didn’t even blink,” marveled the stranger. “He takes my ten in one hand and brings out a cigarette lighter with the other. He says he’s just going to warm the bill a little and an extra zero will appear by the ’10’. He’s going to make me a hundred dollar bill, you follow?”

He looked at both to make sure they followed.

“Some defect in the ink, he says. Course I’m going to let him try, because if he destroys my ten I’ll just hit him up then and there. But if he can make hundreds out of tens - why hell, I’m gonna go into business with the guy!”

“Go on,” Buma said in an amused voice.

“So the guy holds the lighter up to the bill. Before I know it there’s a flash of fire and the damned bill is all in ashes! The guy is startled and all apologetic. Tells me he’s done it a hundred times and it’s never failed before. I can’t believe this bozo and I tell him he better come up with ten bucks quick. I’ll take a check, I tell him.”

“So where’s the magic come in?” Buma inquired, wondering if he’s really got a paying customer here.

“That’s the amazing part,” the stranger said. “The guy takes an orange off the bar. He asks for a knife. He says have a little fruit, it’ll calm me down. This dude just incinerates my last ten bucks and he’s telling me to have a little fruit! I can’t believe it! But I take the knife - in fact, I’m considering whether to shiv the guy - when he says go on, cut the orange. You’ll be surprised. I cut open the orange - and there’s my ten dollar bill inside the orange!!”

Buma smiled. Saltini nodded.

Sharp-face frowned. “You mean it’s just a trick?” he demanded.

“No, no. It’s real magic,” Saltini said. “Honest. Here, I’ll show you. You got an orange, Buma?”

Buma said he’d go into the back and look for one. Saltini asked the stranger if he had a dollar bill.

“You kidding me? You really know how to do it?”

“I think I can manage it,” Saltini said smugly. He’d been doing the bill in the orange since he was eleven.

“You mean you could do it with any bill? Like a twenty or a hundred?”

“Sure,” Saltini said, as Buma returned with an orange.

“You can really do it with a hundred-dollar bill?” he said doubtfully.

“That’s right,” Saltini said. “Any bill up to a million.”

“Wait a minute. I got to see this. My bank’s just around the corner,” he said excitedly. “I’m going to get a hundred dollar bill and bring it back. If you say you can do that - hell, I’ll provide the C-note!”

He ran out.

“A real sucker, eh Buma?” Saltini chuckled. Buma shook his head like he was too weary of it all. “So, you got a hundred I can borrow for a few minutes?” Saltini asked.

“I guess so,” Buma said and opened the cash register. He rang out a crisp new hundred. Saltini took the bill, the orange and a thin, sharp knife. Using a little technique he had picked up at Hubert’s Flea Circus he inserted the bill and doctored the orange so you could put it under a microscope and not notice any tampering.

The sharp-faced man came running back waving a hundred dollar bill. “Here it is!” he exclaimed breathlessly.

Saltini took the bill and folded it. He picked up his lighter and using a little switcheroo, he exchanged the bill for a folded piece of green flash paper.

Green flash paper

“Watch,” he said, and FLASH! The bill went up in flames. 

Saltini used the distraction of the flame to pocket the stranger’s hundred. All that remained was to let him open the prepared orange and find the duplicate.

Saltini handed the knife to the stranger. He cut open the orange and voila! The man went goggle-eyed.

He took out the hundred held it up to the light and shook his head in wonder.

“That’s my bill, all right,” he crowed, and pumped Saltini’s hand vigorously. “That was some trick, mister! I don’t know know how the hell you did it, and I don’t even want to know.” He left the shop staring at the bill and shaking his head.

As he disappeared Buma and Saltini both laughed their guts out at the greenhorn. Saltini fished the hundred out of his pocket, still chuckling, unfolded it and laid it on the counter. Suddenly his chuckle changed to a groan.

The bill looked like a perfectly good hundred except for two things: the heading over the picture said “The United Sharps of America.” And the picture itself, instead of Ben Franklin, read "Barnum."

“Buma!” cried Saltini. “We’ve been had!”

Three heartbeats went by.

“What do you mean we, pal?” Buma growled. He glared at Saltini with those magician’s eyes, eyes that had penetrated brick walls and read sealed messages. “I’ll take a check!”

(Images via Google Images)